


in eyes not yet created

by inirwinwethrust (theia)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Anal Sex, M/M, Sexual Violence, Violence, and, and anyway this probably sucks i'm sorry, ashton my poor baby, because Luke falls in love with Ashton, because TIME PARADOXES, but only at first, but seriously, but seriously beware of the, chapter 2 would have tons of sex scenes, i don't know what's gotten into me, in here, kidding, like not really but, mainly because i like writing about hot guys having sex, no tardises, prepare for a whole lot of confusion, sorry doctor who fans, there's like tons of, violent buttsex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 08:42:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3061352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theia/pseuds/inirwinwethrust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>He could see it now, that the person in his arms wasn't the Luke who cut off his breathing and fucked him until he was sore and barely able to move his limbs. He was the Luke who brought him iced coffee and held Ashton like he was the most important thing in the world to him, and he hoped he was. Ashton hoped he wasn't the only one who felt this, hoped that Luke still had feelings for him even though he wasn't the one he took out on dates and called </i>his.</p><p>
  <i>And Ashton, for the life of him, couldn't remember when he started feeling so strongly for Luke.</i>
</p><p>
  <strike>Or that one time I tried to write a PWP and it turned into this.</strike>
</p><p>(simply put: a Time Travel AU with lots of violent buttsex and a <strike>worrying</strike> lack of info dumps)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i can't say the words out loud

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this oneshot came from a writing prompt on reddit, but this strayed too far away from it that the prompt became irrelevant in the end. So I am proud (not really tbh, this sucks a lot) to present to you a(n erotic) two-chaptered time travel AU of my own creation. There may be a sequel, but it probably won't be out until January. And it's already December 30th, so yeah--go figure.
> 
> I'm not really big on descriptions so if you ever find yourself pulling your hair out in frustration because of my vagueness then go ahead and read the tags. So yeah, there's spoilers in the tags.
> 
> The scenes aren't in order so if you're confused, then it's okay, I'm confused too.
> 
> And one last thing: the story and chapter titles are inspired by Bastille's _Poet_. Leave a comment/kudos if you like it even though it sucks. You can also curse at me if you want (I do that quite a lot myself).
> 
> Also, advanced Happy New Year!
> 
> P.S. This would probably get a rigorous editing session in the upcoming days because I'm not fully content with it, but decided to post it for kicks.

 

Ashton went to the balcony, walking slowly and biting his lip to keep himself from wincing. His steps faltered and a whimper escaped his lips, and he clutched the metal railings and steadied himself.

Luke was always too brutal.

He soaked up the warmth of the setting sun, looking at the city below. It felt good to be outside again after being cooped up in the room for too long.

He bit his lower lip before he snapped his fingers, praying desperately for it to work this time around. He waited, and tried again, but he knew it was all in vain. Just the thought of not being able to leave this place was absolutely terrifying.

A sob wracked his chest, making him surge forward and clutch the railings tighter before he could lose his footing. Luke would be back soon, always arriving before six, and Ashton was  _so_   _tired_  of being his plaything.

Maybe it was better to just let the Keepers get to him, to let their unforgiving bullets sink through his heart and get this over with. But  _of course_  it wasn't better. He didn't really have much of a choice now. He couldn't go back to his time, and the second he sets foot outside of the hotel he would be slaughtered for sure. He was stuck in this room, whether he liked it or not.

And so he waited. Any minute now the door was going to burst open, revealing a tall man with a smirk on his face and a wicked glint in his ocean eyes. He would tell Ashton to undress and sit on the bed, and take off his own clothing, before hurting him.

That's what it was. It wasn't sex, it wasn't anything of the sort—it was  _pain_ , being inflicted on every inch of his body, and Ashton didn't know what he ever did in his lifetime to deserve this.

—

"Need help?"

A man was leaning against the concrete wall, fingers clutching a cigarette. He was taller than him, with hints of stubble on his jaw and bags under his bright blue eyes. Ashton glanced back at the street for any sign of his pursuers, before eyeing the man distrustfully.

"What kind of help can you offer?"  _What am I doing?_

He flung the cigarette to his feet, putting out the light with a quick push of his boot. "Protection."

He forced down the fear as one of the suited men came into view; men in black suits and white ties and silver guns. They weren't human, Ashton knew they weren't, and he was scared to  _death_ , and maybe this shady man could help him.

They were just a few yards away now. Ashton pressed himself against the wall, hoping they wouldn't be able to spot him from this far.

"From those men?" He asked. He was so  _stupid_  for asking. For all he knew this man was one of them, just biding his time before pointing a silver gun at him too. But he had to risk it if he wanted to live another day.

"Yes. And a place to sleep, food—whatever you wish." Ashton would never allow himself to even  _think_  about it under normal circumstances (but he wasn't exactly in 1929 anymore, was he?), but the man was attractive. And breathtakingly so.

"And what are your terms?"

His lips curved into a smirk. "You give me pleasure in return."

Ashton forced the lump down his throat. He was desperate, and the man knew it.

"Deal."

—

Loud footsteps, heavy bangs on the wooden door.

_"Ashton!"_

The curly-haired boy hurried towards the door as fast as his searing nether regions could allow. He opened it to see Luke clutching his stomach, red cuts on his arms and face. His fingers were red with dried blood.

Ashton helped Luke lie down on the bed, positioning a pillow under his head so it was elevated. His hands were shaking, but he quickly hid it in his lap.

"What happened?" He hoped Luke would give him a decent answer despite his current state.

"I got stabbed." Luke replied, sounding like he was talking about the weather. His blue eyes were glassy and unfocused.

Ashton pursed his lips, reluctant to press for further information. But Luke seemed pliant enough to answer his questions, and it didn't hurt to try, right?

"Stabbed? Whatever for?" He asked, summoning enough courage to look into Luke's blue eyes as he spoke.

"Because I was keeping you alive, and the Keepers didn't like it. Kinda obvious, isn't it?" He gestured to his abdomen. Ashton hesitated before reaching for the hem of Luke's black shirt, gently sliding it upwards.

There was a suture sitting right below his ribcage. It was red and raw, and the stitches were uneven as if done in a hurry. There were flecks of dried blood around the wound, and Ashton could only hope it was cleaned properly before being stitched.

Ashton wordlessly grabbed a wet cotton ball from the bathroom and started wiping the blood off.

He didn't understand. What did the Keepers want with him, anyway? All he knew was that they kept fugitives at bay, but never once have they killed travellers. And yet they were after Ashton for whatever reason, and now they were after Luke as well.

 

 

 

"I don't understand why they want to kill me so much," he sighed, throwing away the cotton ball when he was done, "but... thank you for your protection, Luke."

"You're practically thanking me for fucking you on a nightly basis." Luke scoffed. "You would have survived well on your own."

"I wouldn't." What was Ashton fighting for, anyway? "I know how ruthless they are. I—"

"So you're thanking me for keeping you locked up in this hotel because the Keepers can't get in." Ashton fell silent. Luke continued. "Then God, you're a stupid one aren't you?"

Ashton gritted his teeth. "I am  _not_ stupid."

"Then why are you thanking me, Ashton?" He looked at Ashton with those ocean blue eyes, devoid of any emotion. "Why are you thanking me despite the fact that I keep hurting you?"

"Because."  _I don't know._ "I feel like I'm in your debt."

"You've paid that  _debt_ the day you let me take your virginity." Luke sounded frustrated, forehead wrinkled and brows knitted together. "I've been the biggest asshole to you, I've hurt you more times than I could count, and still,  _still_ , you fucking thank me."

"At least you never attempted to kill me, even though sometimes I thought you would." He plowed on, carefully avoiding Luke's gaze. "I would let you have your way with me for as long as it takes, because at least I'm still breathing. At least I have a place to stay while I wait for my ability to come back. Is it such a bad thing that I'm thanking you for that?"

He knew he was telling the truth as he returned Luke's pointed gaze. He felt determined—to do  _what_ , exactly, he didn't know. But he needed to prove his point to Luke, to show him that he was his first and only choice.

" _God_ , why do you have to make everything so hard?" He clenched his fists, making Ashton tense up. "Why do you have to keep making me fall for you?"

—

If Ashton had to compare it, if he was forced to compare, then he'd say this night was more violent than the last, and much worse than the first. He left Ashton gasping for air on the bed, bruises littering his skin, limbs burning from exhaustion. He sauntered towards the dresser with a satisfied smile on his face, like a little kid who just finished playing with his toy. Ashton could only watch as he dressed, in too much pain to even move, before he stepped out of the room as if nothing happened. As if he didn't just exploit him.

And Ashton knew he was a monster—a repulsive human being, the lowest of the low. But Luke had him wrapped around his finger, and he couldn't do anything about it.

—

Since Luke came back from the hospital, he was never quite the same.

He's been on the balcony for hours on end, smoking pack after pack of those sweet-smelling vanilla cigarettes.  _Chain smoking_  is what Michael said it is was called when he strolled into the room that afternoon, looking every bit as worried as Ashton felt.

"Tell him to stop if you could." The red-haired man whispered softly, patting Ashton's shoulder. "Don't let it get worse."

Ashton took a deep breath, hearing the faint click of the lock as Michael left. How was he going to do that when Luke never listened to him?

Luke snapped to attention the second he stepped into the balcony, but his eyes were bloodshot and unfocused still.

Ashton shut the door to prevent smoke from getting inside the room before slowly approaching the blond. He didn't mind the smoke all that much, if he was honest—it reminded him of the vanilla poundcakes his mother used to bake.

"Go back inside." Luke's voice was hoarse from all that smoking. He dropped the cigarette butt and stepped on it with the heel of his shoes as Ashton sat on the wicker chair beside him.

Ashton didn't want to notice it. But the look of complete resignation on his face was too obvious, and the light in his eyes were almost completely gone, and he looked too much like Ashton's mother when she told him that she had an incurable sickness. And Ashton can't have that—he can't just let Luke lead himself to ruin. It would be like seeing his mother die all over again.

"No." He said firmly.

"Suit yourself." The blond took another cigarette and shoved it between his pink lips. Two white, empty packs were on the tiled floor, and it looked like he was about to finish the third one in his hands as well.

" _No_ , Luke." Ashton stood and grabbed the stick from his mouth. "Stop this."

Luke was quiet for a long moment, eyeing Ashton's clenched fists. "Do you want attention?" He said slowly, as if he was talking to a child. "Is that it?"

"N—"

He tugged on Ashton's arm, making him fall on his lap. And before he could protest he was kissing him, exploring every inch of Ashton's mouth. Every sweep of his tongue at the roof of his mouth felt half-hearted, and Ashton was able to pull away from his grip with ease.

Luke frowned, before clutching either side of his face with his big hands and planting his lips on Ashton's, but he knew he didn't want this. They both knew it.

He made a noise of protest as Ashton struggled against him, before giving up and finally releasing him.

"What do you want from me, Ashton?" He sounded subdued, shoulders dropped, and Ashton shook his head.

"Tell me what's wrong." He pleaded. "Please, I just want to help."

Luke was silent for a long while. Ashton stood there, blood pounding in his ears, gazes locked with Luke's. He would kneel in front of him if he had to. He would do anything Luke asked,  _anything_ , as long as he tells Ashton what's plaguing him.

And finally he spoke.

"Alright, sit down." He said, rather breathlessly.

Ashton fought to keep the smile off his face as he headed to his earlier seat.

Luke made a tsking sound. "No,  _here_." He pulled him to his lap, making Ashton yelp in surprise. Luke positioned him so that they were facing each other, with Ashton's legs on either side of his hips. The tips of Ashton's ears turned red as Luke held his waist.

"They're all the fucking same, you know." He said, voice low and venomous. "Doctors, hospitals—all  _useless_."

Ashton waited for him to continue. He looks shaken, face pale and eyes glassy, as if remembering a devastating memory.

"They couldn't save him." His voice cracked, grip on Ashton's waist tightening. "They couldn't do anything. I just fucking watched as they let him die."

"I'm so sorry Luke." He managed to say weakly, because he knew what it feels like to lose someone he loved.

Luke buried his face in Ashton's chest, hugging him tightly. Ashton wrapped his arms around Luke's thin, broad shoulders and laid his chin on top of his head.

He could feel Luke's tears through the thin material of his shirt (and this was Luke's, too), but Ashton couldn't do anything but hold him. The man he so detested, the man who is breaking down in front of him, clutching him like he was his only lifeline.

His voice was muffled when he spoke, but Ashton heard him clearly.

"I'm just glad you're here." 


	2. now you will live forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few things to say:
> 
> 1) It says I published this on December 31. That's not true, because I actually missed my self-made deadline by 24 minutes (it's 12:24AM here, and guess what? It's the first day of 2015). Nonetheless here it is in all its unedited glory.
> 
> 2) This is horribly unedited. And by horribly, I meant I haven't edited it at all. I'm definitely gonna edit this later on though, because I'm a perfectionist and anything less than my standards is not allowed. Nawp.
> 
> 3) Happy New Year! Pretty self-explanatory.
> 
> 4) There's an info dump at the end if you're still confused about some things (and I'd think you are, because I'm not really one for info dumping in the story itself). It's at the End Notes for a reason (hence, spoilers). :)
> 
> Enjoy reading! And leave a comment/kudos if you wish.

He stood in front of the coffin, hands shoved deep in his jean pockets. Michael had insisted on getting him cremated instead of being buried, and now he understood why as he gazed into the pale face of the man he loved. Seeing him in ashes would be much better than seeing him like this, lifeless and unmoving, dead because of a single mistake.

"We should go." Calum said softly, jerking his chin to the slowly blackening sky. "We can visit him another day."

"I—" he took a deep breath, "—I need to try again."

He was thankful his friends were there. Otherwise he would be on his knees already, pulling out his knife and stabbing his chest with it.

The black-haired man hummed and started rubbing small, soothing circles in his back as Michael spoke.

"Then try." He said, watching as the blond smoothed his long fingers along the length of the white coffin. "Be thankful you're a traveller, Luke. You wouldn't've had so many chances otherwise."

"I know." Luke closed the upper half of the coffin with steady hands, shoulders set in sudden determination. "And this time I have to do it right."

"Great!" Michael clapped his hands together, eyes crinkling at the ends as his lips stretched into a smile. "Just remember that this is probably your last chance to get it right."

" _Michael_." Calum hissed out. "He knows what he's doing."

"I hope so."

Luke tuned out the sound of his friends' banter, taking out a long plastic box. In it was a syringe filled with clear liquid—a drug that makes him fall asleep the second it hits his system.

"Do you guys still wanna go with me?" The blond asked.

"Of course!" Calum exclaimed, looking affronted.

"I mean, who would keep you from killing yourself if something goes wrong?" Michael's tone was joking, but the message was plain and clear.

Luke managed a small smile before whispering a soft " _Thank you_ ".

" _But,_ " Michael took the box from Luke, "we're going back another way."

"Hey!" Luke snatched it from Michael's grasp, shoving the box into his pocket. "Alright,  _Jesus._ "

 _ _"God__ , you kids." Calum made an annoyed sound. "Let's do this my way, okay?"

His voice didn't leave room for further objection. He gripped Luke's hand and reached for Michael's with his other.

"Alright," Calum said, "we jump on the count of three."

"Why do  _we_ have to jump, too?" Michael asked, sounding miffed. He winced as Calum gripped his hand tighter. "I'm just saying we'll look stupid!"

"Yours is worse." Luke retorted.

Michael's eyes grew big. "How is  _winking_ worse than jumping?  _Jesus Christ_ , falling asleep is even  _worse—_ "

" _On the count of three_." Calum repeated. "One, two, three!"

They jumped, disappearing into nothingness.

—

He felt like he was being split down the middle, like fire was licking at his buttocks. He closed his eyes as a gasp slipped out of his mouth, barely registering the fact that Luke had stilled inside of him, big hands gripping his hips and breathing erratic.

"Fuck,  _fuck_ , you're so tight." Luke moaned out, letting go of Ashton's hips to thread his fingers through Ashton's hair.

Ashton fought to keep his breathing steady despite the pain he was feeling, too scared to even move. He thought Luke was going to rip his hair from his scalp as he tugged at it roughly, letting out a groan. 

The blue-eyed man bent over him, leaving stinging marks on his neck and collarbone with his teeth. Then he was moving, in and out and in and out, going faster and faster with every thrust. He untangled his hand from his curls, and suddenly Ashton was gasping for air as his fingers wrapped around his neck, blocking his airway.

Ashton clawed at Luke's wrists, trying to make him loosen his grip. His fingers brushed over scarred skin, making Luke emit a noise of surprise and withdraw his hands.

Ashton gulped in air greedily, struggling under Luke's weight. He wanted to scream, to push him away and bolt out of this hotel room as fast as he can, but Luke wasn't moving. No, he was just looking at Ashton, looking straight into his soul, an indiscernible emotion in his eyes.

Then Luke's hands started moving of their own accord, creeping under him and to the small of his back, where Ashton's mark was. It was etched into his skin like a tattoo, but all Ashton knew was that it appeared of its own accord the day he found out he had the ability to time travel with a snap of his fingers—and that it burned whenever someone else touched it.

He gasped as Luke pressed a blunt fingernail into the mark, hips bucking upwards in surprise. Luke's other hand kept him in place as he continued digging his fingernails into the small of his back, making Ashton throw his head back and gasp.

It's like someone set fire to his skin, burning him agonizingly slow, watching contentedly as he thrashed and screamed and cried out in pain. And as the scorching pain finally ceased he managed to open his watery eyes, chest heaving. He could hear skin slapping skin over the pounding of his ears as Luke continued to slam his thick member into him, even as he pleaded him to  _Stop, Luke, please_.

But he didn't stop until Ashton was seeing stars and sticky ropes of semen painted his abdomen, and even then he was bucking into him in sudden, slow thrusts.

" _God_." He cursed, fingers splayed on Ashton's chest as he slowly pulled out. Ashton sighed in relief, wiping off the tears on his cheeks with a shaky hand.

He didn't see that Luke was crying, too.

—

"You should tell him." Michael sipped his beer, gazing at Luke with his knowing green eyes. They were talking about Ashton like he wasn't there.

"I can't." Luke replied immediately—almost monotonously, as if they've had this conversation numerous times before. "Not yet."

"This is the third time Luke." Michael's brows were furrowed together, scowling. "Haven't you learned from your mistakes? It's been three weeks—you should've told himby now."

"You don't know how hard it is!" Luke shot up from his seat, hands balled into fists. He looked almost pained. Ashton shrank back into the couch as Michael stood up as well, in a much slower pace, not appearing daunted by the other man's height. In fact, it looked like he was challenging Luke with his set shoulders and leveled gaze.

"I can't just tell him everything and expect him to understand!" Luke yelled, the vein in his neck popping.

"And why not, huh?" Michael scoffed. "Ashton isn't  _stupid_ , Luke! He'll understand." He looked at Ashton as if seeking to confirm his words. Luke glanced at him as well, and Ashton could see the fight drain out of him as he nodded gingerly.

Michael pursed his lips. He looked so much like a china doll, skin as white as porcelain and lips as red as roses. "If anything, he  _deserves_  to know."

Michael set down his beer and wiped his hands on his black jeans. The can was slightly dented, Ashton noticed.

"Just... don't make that mistake again." He said softly, gaze trained on Luke. The blond nodded tersely, and soon after Michael gathered his things and left the room.

—

Ashton pulled the fabric of his shirt away from his chest, making a face. The heat was absolutely unbearable today. His face was dripping with sweat and his shirt stuck uncomfortably to his skin, and even as he opened the balcony door in hopes of catching a breeze it didn't even make a difference.

Calum had said something about tampering with the heater, but Ashton wasn't good with buttons and didn't like tampering with  _anything_ , thank you very much. So he settled for wiping his face with a towel as he watched TV, hoping the weather would get better soon.

When Luke arrived later that day, Ashton was in the balcony, contemplating on whether or not taking his shirt off in such a weather was excusable. He already had his fill of  _How I Met Your Mother_ , and has since moved to his favorite wicker chair with a cooking magazine in hand.

"Oh there you are." Luke said, sounding somewhat relieved. He handed Ashton a plastic cup with a green creature on it.  _Starbucks Coffee_ , it read.

"What is this?" He set the magazine on the table as Luke sat on the wicker chair beside him. He didn't look much better in terms of being affected by the weather.

"Iced coffee." He replied, absently wrapping an arm around Ashton's shoulders. The curly-haired man blushed, remembering their conversation last night.

Should he rest his head on Luke's shoulder? Was that acceptable? He chewed on his bottom lip, clutching the plastic cup tightly.

"Something wrong?" Luke brought their foreheads together, brows furrowed.

Ashton started to shake his head, before smiling instead. "Nothing's wrong." He answered sincerely, bumping his nose with Luke's.

"If you say so." Luke smiled, dimples showing. "By the way, Calum said you had trouble with the heater?"

"Frankly, I don't like buttons." Ashton said, earning a chuckle from the older man. "So yes."

"You could've called him." Luke carded his fingers through Ashton's curls, slowly massaging his scalp. "Or Michael. Or me, actually."

"I don't like buttons." Ashton repeated.

Luke shrugged. "Your phone doesn't have buttons."

"It's not mine, it's yours." He let his head fall on Luke's shoulder. "And yes, it has buttons."

"Only the home button anyway." The blond poked his cheek, grinning. " _Jesus_ , my point is, you can always call me if you need me. I got Michael to teach you how to use your phone, right?"

"Yes, but..."

"But?" Luke egged him on.

A smile tugged on Ashton's lips. "I told him I knew how to use it."

"But you didn't?"

"Obviously."

Luke lightly pinched his side. Ashton yelped in surprise, slapping his shoulder in the process.

" _God_." Luke was full on laughing now, and Ashton has never seen him like this before. Looking so elated and gleeful, without a care in the world. "I love you so much."

—

"Why do you never stay?" Ashton blurted out as he watched Luke shove a shirt over his head. It was black, like all of his other clothes. He always dressed like he was about to attend a funeral.

The blond stopped his movements, looking quite ridiculous with his shirt hanging around his neck and his chest exposed.

"Because." Ashton felt like he was mocking him for yesterday. He felt the tips of his ears heat up. "I need to do things."

"Can't you do them here?" He asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. Luke shook his head.

They left it at that.

—

 _I love you too_ , Ashton wanted to say as Luke led him back inside, hand in his. He managed to close the balcony door as Luke kissed him, lips soft and pillowy, hands resting on Ashton's hips.

"I love you." Luke whispered against his lips, holding Ashton's body flush against his. "I love you,  _I love you_."

Ashton moaned as Luke's tongue met his. He got better at this whole kissing thing now, after the many, many times he found his lips locked with Luke's.

He could feel Luke's erection pressed against his thigh as they broke away from each other. Ashton reached down to gingerly unbutton Luke's pants and pull it down.

He could hear Luke inhale sharply as Ashton sunk to his knees. He only ever did this once before, during a stupid tryst with one of his friends when he was fourteen, and even then he wasn't able to do it properly.

He swallowed down his fear as he palmed Luke's member through the thin fabric. He brought his fingers up to the waistband of Luke's briefs, gently tugging it down to reveal his throbbing erection.

It was bigger than Ashton remembered—and that was complete nonsense, he knew it was, but God almighty he was  _nervous_. He gently gripped the base with one hand, making a tentative lick to the throbbing head. Luke moaned, giving Ashton enough courage to actually take Luke's cock into his mouth.

It was a challenge to keep his teeth away, but he managed not to bite Luke's manhood off. And Luke seemed to be enjoying it, too—his soft moans and occasional curses were like rewards to Ashton, satisfying in a way.

He slowly took him deeper, bit by bit, until he couldn't take him in anymore. Ashton compensated by stroking his hand up and down Luke's shaft as he slowly bobbed his head, sucking particularly hard at the head of Luke's cock.

" _Fuck_ , you're so good at this." Luke rasped out, threading his fingers through Ashton's hair. He faintly heard the click of a lock and the door creaking open.

"Holy—that's  _hot_."

Ashton's eyes flew to the door, where a red-haired man stood with his mouth wide open. He quickly let go of Luke's erection, face burning in embarrassment.

"What the—" Luke's neck was red as he quickly brought his pants up. "— _Michael!"_

"Fuck,  _fuck._ " Michael giggled. His cheeks were flushed as he braced himself against the door frame. "You guys were having  _sex!"_

" _Jesus Chris_ —get the fuck  _out_ , Michael." Luke's face was a dark pink, and looked as mortified as Ashton felt.

"Sorry!" The pale man hiccuped, raising his hands in surrender. "'M drunk. And now, I'm also horny.  _Really_ horny."

—

" _God_ , why do you have to make everything so hard?" Luke clenched his fists, making Ashton tense up. "Why do you have to keep making me fall for you?"

Ashton felt heat rise to his cheeks. "Wha—what do you mean?"

"Shit, I mean— _shit._ " Luke abruptly rose to his feet, teetering unsteadily.

Ashton made a move to stand up, but Luke's glare kept him in place. He tore the end table's drawer open, took a plastic box and shoved it in his pocket. Then he was barreling out of the door like his life depended on it.

—

"We used to be together."

Ashton choked on his food, before looking at Luke with disbelief across his features. The blond was carefully avoiding his gaze—and God almighty, why does he always drop information so  _suddenly_?

"The first time I met you, we bumped into each other." Luke took a deep breath. Ashton noticed he hasn't even touched his food. "We became friends. That's all it was at the time... and then one day something happened between us, and by the time I got back you were gone."

Ashton didn't have time to process what Luke was saying as he plowed on, as if he'd lose his courage if he didn't.

"The second time, it was different. I made my move the second I saw your familiar hazel eyes." He smiled to himself, but it was laced with sadness.

"We dated, we fell in love, I called you  _mine_. But the Keepers managed to get to you, I'm still not sure how, and you quite literally died in my arms. And this time..." Luke trailed off, running a hand through his knotty locks. Ashton squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to encourage him. "This time, I messed up. I don't know if you could ever forgive me, Ashton, but know that I regret everything I did to you."

Ashton gently tugged Luke into his arms, just holding him. He was only half-aware that he spilled his food between them as Luke buried his face in his neck, muttering  _I'm so sorry Ashton_ into his skin like a promise.

(And maybe it was. It was a promise for something  _better_.)

He could see it now, that the person in his arms wasn't the Luke who cut off his breathing and fucked him until he was sore and barely able to move his limbs. He was the Luke who brought him iced coffee and held Ashton like he was the most important thing in the world to him, and he hoped he was. Ashton hoped he wasn't the only one who felt this, hoped that Luke still had feelings for him even though he wasn't the one he took out on dates and called  _his_.

And Ashton, for the life of him, couldn't remember when he started feeling so strongly for Luke.

 _Fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never really explained a lot of things (and I don't know why, so I'm sorry about that), which sucks I guess. But here's a few things you might want to know:  
> \- Time travelling is different for everyone. For Ashton it's snapping his fingers, for Luke it's sleeping (or just unconscious in general), for Michael it's winking (like actual winking, not just blinking, because God that would be cruel) and for Calum it's jumping. They can travel with someone as long as they have direct skin contact (hence the hand holding part in the first part).  
> \- Time travellers get a mark when they discover their ability. It's kinda like a tattoo, like Ashton described, and it's in Roman numerals. The year on their mark is the year when they discovered their ability. And yeah, it burns when someone else touches it, and Ashton accidentally touches Luke's (which he thought was a scar on his wrist), which got him beaten up. Bad move, Ash.
> 
> And that's the info dump everyone needed.
> 
> Surprise surprise: a sequel will be posted in the upcoming days. Stay tuned!
> 
>  
> 
> _Edit 1: Changed "cold coffee" to "iced coffee". ~~Jesus Christ that was stupid of me~~_


End file.
